Monday, November 22, 2010

It's not that hard. As with the war crimes of the Bush administration, it all comes down to Accountability, or the lack thereof.

On the way into work this morning, I was thinking about the general hysteria that consumed the country over Bill Clinton's blowjob, and the crimes that we have been whistling past ever since. It's stunning, really, how stupid we are.

And why not? In today's political climate, he could probably get elected President.

This is weird, though. Does anyone doubt that Delay had plenty of capital to spend on his defense? Yet it sounds like they put out a piss-poor effort. One might think that they are pretty confident that they will prevail, no matter what, so why bother. That's the impression I get, anyway. This is Texas, after all, and Delay has always treated this whole episode as a big joke. Sure hope they're wrong (and, gee, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?).

Friday, November 5, 2010

My Son#2 is currently attempting to construct an essay for his college application on the topic of Who has influenced you and Why, and he chose to write about...wait for it...Woodie Guthrie. Seriously. Color me one Proud Mama Not-Grizzly. When I asked him Why Woodie Guthrie? and he said, Because he spoke for people who couldn't speak for themselves, I thought I would cry.

This land is your land! This land is, well, your land....

Yeah, well. I tell this story to inspire hope, because there seems damn little cause for hope out there. The future looksprettygrim.

So we must take the long view. Our younger generation is collectively far wiser and more compassionate than the ignorant racist bigots that comprise the GOP/Tea Cracker Party, whose median age is around 65.

From Wikipedia, I find these oft-omitted verses from This Land Is Your Land:

As I went walking, I saw a sign there,And on the sign there, It said "no trespassing." [In another version, the sign reads "Private Property"]But on the other side, it didn't say nothing!That side was made for you and me.

In the squares of the city, In the shadow of a steeple;By the relief office, I'd seen my people.As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking,Is this land made for you and me?